Allos
by Soulreciever
Summary: Every day a smaller victory, an entire day out from under the covers becoming hours, minutes, seconds. (Ocular companion story, angst, mild slash, BBl and Holiday star spoilers)
1. The me before you

More Occulus universe bits and pieces so I'd recommend reading that first to really get the meat of this but it's not 100% needed! a smattering of spoilers for a few Holiday Star revelations and I guess BBL though that's not as overt this time! Italics are the Hatoful verse this time just to be confusing, everyone's still human and there's an allusion to a slash paring.

* * *

Every day a smaller victory, an entire day out from under the covers becoming hours, minutes, seconds.

Today perhaps he won't wake up.

He dreams of King Arthur, of a princesses and the dry heat of dragons flames burning across the skin of his face.

Panic and he tries to go back to the fantasy, yet the heat lingers, draws out until he knows it for the inescapable closeness of summer.

Knows that he has, again, woken up and hates himself bitterly the inability to simply let go.

He lies, what feels hours, in the heat and the smell of his own body, wishing a thousand shapeless things and envisioning countless things that might go wrong if he were to leave his futon.

Paranoia of just what might breed the damp, hot, air if the mattress remains unwashed eventually drives him outside, his mind a constant loop of self hatred and pure, unadulterated, panic.

It comes an inevitable head when his hands find only tissue where they'd expected change and, no matter if he is surrounded by strangers, he bursts into unstoppable tears.

They start whispering, of course and he's cycling over and over the though of simply running out into the street, ending everything beneath the wheels of one the heavier lorries that pass through the neighbourhood, when a hand reaches into his field of vision and feeds the correct amount of change into the slot.

"Everything ok now?" It's the first someone has asked him that question in so, so, long, the first anyone has looked at him with anything other than disgust what feels the entire span of his miserable life and he pinches himself surreptitiously to assure it real before responding the softest of nods.

A blinding smile and the hand settles a moment to muss his hair before its owner returns back across the room to his own machine.

It takes a solid minute shaping worst case scenario and breathing out hard the hope of slowing his thundering heart to breach the distance, to mutter, meek and timid a poor mans thanks, yet again he's met that smile, the shear force of warmth and welcome that seems to radiate from the other.

"I have the money in my apartment!" It's clumsy and far too loud yet the stranger's smile only softens into something that feels as warm and secure his blankets.

"Oh, there's no rush, in fact, keep a hold of it until next week and you can give it to me then..." an expectant look and it's another full minute before he realises he's waiting for an introduction.

Cheeks so warm they feel as though they have been burned he stumbles into a slip shot bow and murmurs,

"Forgive the belated introduction, I'm Kazuaki Nanaki."

"Pleased to meet you, Kazaki-kun, I'm Uzune Hitori."

_**'Would you come meet me?' **__It's unusual enough for Uzune-san to be messaging past six pm, let alone asking to meet at such an hour and, concerned, he sends a swift, __**'Why, what's happened?'**__ before his head has chance to start second guessing the choice. _

**_'I'm_**_**outside the coin laundry where we met, Kazuki, please just come and I'll explain everything later...' **_

_Panic, shear desperate panic and he's running, moving on pure, pure, adrenaline and, for the first time in what feels forever, he's not over analysing the act itself or what those around him might be thinking, but rather he's completely and utterly focused. _

_Uzune-san is on the pavement when he arrives, his clothing and skin baring the ash and the scars of a fire, yet still his mouth twists into a welcoming smile, still he apologises for dragging him out when he knows how little he cares to be anywhere but his apartment, still he tells him, "You're the only person I could turn to," and truly means every word. _

_Without thought he's offering to help the other back to his apartment, giving over his last sure sanctuary simply because it's the least he can do to repay all Uzune-san's countless selfless little acts of kindness these last few weeks. _

_Uzune-san resists, tells him that it'll be dangerous, that he's a wanted man now and he's so scared that he believes no matter how foolish it sounds._

_How even the thinking that someone like Uzune-san might be even the least bit dangerous, let alone risk enough to warrant a man hunt, makes his head hurt. _

_"Then we hide together, I know how to be invisible and I could teach you."_

_A moment more where he seems determined to keep him at arms reach and then, a new and intoxicating smile, he responds,_

_"Together then."_


	2. The me after you

so I'm not all to convinced I had an ideal of where I was going with this chapter so I'm sorry if it sort of meanders! Oh I'm somwhat sorry for the way I ended proper-verse Kazuaki's side of things especially concidering we know where its going but it's where my head went so...warnings as in the last chapter and yes this is now, officially, it for this branch of the verse though I do have other character head cannons that I might play with (which is why Iwamine-sensei is still 'Souma' here btw!

* * *

There's a scream trapped still in his throat as he starts into waking but he can't recall quite why, feels only a deep, shapeless, terror, as he tries to reach out for the last tendrils of the nightmare.

Body flooded with adrenaline his mind tells him swift and desperate that the room is not as it should be, that the light, the furniture about him, even the bed itself, is alien.

He sets a trembling hand the warm body at his side, breaths deep the spice and sweetness Hitori's natural scent and repeats over and over that he is safe, that everything feels wrong because, right now, he's not in his own bed.

The restlessness will not quite leave and eventually he takes himself out into the living room with one of the thin summer blankets in order to assure that, Hitori, at least, is mentally alert for tomorrow's classes.

The first fingers of dawn find him buried deep the quirky fantasy novel Nageki had left upon the table, mind so completely absorbed the tale enfolding before him that he'd managed to almost completely push out his previous discomfort and actually relax once more.

"Oh!" The softest of soft yet still he starts and, of course, Nageki being Nageki he's instantly backing away a flurried, "I'm sorry, Kazuaki-sensie, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's ok, I was just absorbed in the book, please, come sit down." A moments hesitation and then the boy comes to settle in the small space between his feet and the edge of the sofa.

There is an anticipation in the silence now, a hungry void that, in the not so distant past, would likely have triggered the worst of panic attacks.

He has grown so much since then, twisted and pushed himself so that, initially, he might become less of a Burden for Hitori and then, surprisingly swiftly, so that might see just how far he could leave behind the despicable creature he'd become.

So he smiles through his discomfort and, placing the book to one side, he enquires,

"Did you have a nightmare, fujishiro-kun?"

"Oh, no, my body clock is just a little strange." A beat then, "Is that why you're awake sensei?"

"You got me." A wink rewards him a shocked expression and, not for the first time, he's left the somewhat annoying comprehension of just why Dr Souma finds such pleasure in teasing him.

Still Nageki's swiftly finding his composure and enquiring, "is there anything I can do to help?" With a genuine sincerity and concern that has him confused and, smiling sweetly, the boy informs him simply, "you suit a smile better, sensei."

Time and time again he has been told that Nageki is not so very overt in his emotions, has seen first hand how the other observed and assessed a situation before taking any form of action, yet still he had somehow convinced himself that the boys stiff diffidence meant that he disliked him intensely.

He'd understood, of course, the siblings had, after all, grown exponentially closer in the months after the younger boy's illness had at last forced him to leave Hatoful House. Understood that their world had compressed in and in until it contained only the two of them and even the thought of opening it out just a little, of letting someone else in, was likely hard to get firm grip on.

Still he'd been so afraid that, no matter how unlike the younger boy it was, Nageki might eventually grow tired of his 'intrusion' and subtly push at Hitori until the other was convinced to push him out.

The thought makes him shiver slightly and, apparently reading the turn of his thoughts, Nageki says,

"Truthfully when I first met you, sensei, I knew you were different, that Onii-chan would come to care for you enough that he'd put you even above me.

"It was a knowledge that made me sick to my stomach and I did actually think that, maybe, I could push you out before it became too late but then I realised something."

"What?"

"For so, so, long Onii-san has put me first, never asking for anything in return and, for all that I know it is because he cares, because that is who he is, it would be unforgivable for me to not do the same in return if given the chance."

It's so much for such a simple explanation, a kindness that, as with so many others he has been given since stepping into Hitori's inner circle, he feels certain he shall never truly repay and yet still he makes effort, smiles hard and gives what feels the weakest of thanks before enquiring,

"Will you be ok out here on your own for a bit?"

A firm confirmation and, as he wobbles onto his feet he utters a soft, "goodnight, sensei."

"Goodnight, Fujshiro-kun."

_Today, as yesterday, he wakes and does not feel shamed for doing as such. _

_He spends only a half hour under his blanket, promising himself that today he shall tell Hitori that he wants now to live, that he can be strong now against the fetid nature of this world because the other is at his side. _

_As always the words die as he again sees Hitori and is reminded how thin both in body and spirit the other has become these last few weeks._

_Someone else would say the words anyway, would smile confident and add that they would commit everything into making sure they could make it so Hitori would want to live again because _**they **_stand at _**his**_ side. _

_Again the sense of self revulsion, the sure thought that Hitori deserved better than him and, once more, the desperate wish that they had never met, that fate might have spun a better path one so very, very, deserving such a thing. _

_The thought will not leave him for the rest of the evening, screams so loud that he roots out the sleeping pills he'd bought two lifetimes previous in shear desperate need for just the briefest moment of silence. _

_The pot rattles as he pulls it to him and he wonders, almost absently, if there are enough pills left to assure he never again wakes._

_Hitori would be so angry at him for breaking the promise they'd made recently and so very alone but then he'd also be free wouldn't he?_

_Surely after a day or two he'd realise how foolish he'd been in growing attached to someone like him and in a week he'd have forgotten him entirely, found something or someone he _**would**_ fight for. _

_Something hot and new kindles at that thought, a desperate something he can not quite place shape to and leaves him a dark, twisted, comprehension. _

_He wanted Hitori to die with him..._**for**_ him...wanted to spend his last moment knowing beyond all doubt that he was of some importance to the other._


End file.
